


The Chasm of Oblivion

by lxghtwoodsbow



Series: The Beauty of Angst [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Has Panic Attacks, Alec Lightwood-centric, Alec hurts, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Izzy dies, Kinda, but doesn't get them really, but mostly just Alec, i still cant tag, if Izzy really dies tho, magnus comforts him, my poor children, ouch my heart, send help, sorry - Freeform, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 05:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14128935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lxghtwoodsbow/pseuds/lxghtwoodsbow
Summary: Loss haunts us all. It sneaks up on us. Death. And it hurts, like hell. A burning inside us, eventually dulling, but never-ending.Or, the one where Alec mourns after Isabelle's death.





	The Chasm of Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> All I'm going to write is angst, sorry.  
> This genuinely hurt my heart, I love my children too much damn it. Poor Alec and Izzy.

Losing a sibling is like losing half of yourself. No matter how much you fight, disagree or argue, you love them more than you can explain. If you are a younger sibling, you've known them all of your life. It would be impossible to imagine life without them because you've not had them there. If you're an older sibling, chances are you helped raise your brother or sister. Perhaps you didn't feed them and clothe them, but you stood by their side and helped them grow. 

Of course, arguing had never been a problem for the Lightwood siblings. Sure, they may disagree on how to handle something, but Alec and Isabelle radiated love for one another. Protecting each other was what they did, even when they didn't need it.

That was the way it had been since the day Izzy was born. More specifically, the moment young Alec first held his baby sister in his arms. She was small and perfect, her tiny fists clenching onto his black hair. "I will keep you safe." He had whispered to the sleeping child.

However, it quickly came apparent that he didn't need to keep her safe. Isabelle Lightwood was fierce. She fought exquisitely, and ruthlessly, yet angelically. There was an air of gracefulness in each swing of her whip, and stab of her sword. Still, Alec upheld the promise. No matter how capable his sister was, he would always have her back, fight her battles, always take the swing instead of her. Because he had promised to keep her safe.

But he'd failed.

He had broken his promise. 

The funeral was like any other. Shadowhunter funerals were much more beautiful than any mundane one, not to mention the obvious colour change. It had always confused Alec as to why mundies would use a funeral colour for a wedding. Like usual, Downworlders were banned from attending the event, despite his constant protests. There were many downworlders that had fought tirelessly at their side, and who were true friends of Izzy's. Simon, Luke, Magnus. They deserved to attend, and Alec had petitioned endlessly, to no avail. Even as Head of the Institute, the Clave's word meant far more than his. 

Alec had been entrusted to speaking Izzy's name, as per Shadowhunter tradition. That tradition declared that someone left behind would say the name of the fallen. Part of him would have rather let his mother do it, but he felt as though he owed it to his sister to bid her farewell. 

The faces of Jace and Clary were what haunted him the most about that funeral. They stood front row, features twisted into unbearable guilt as tears fell from their eyes. They blamed themselves, of course they did. They were on mission with the Lightwood girl when she died. It was Jace who had carried her body back to the Institute, covered in her blood. Alec remembered that day perfectly.

Magnus and Alec had been in the control room, Alec scanning over the on-screen maps and Magnus sitting on the end of a table admiring his dark purple nail polish. On the map hovering next to the shadowhunter, there was a red dot somewhere in Brooklyn, where Jace, Izzy and Clary were at the time. The demon energy was quite low, 2 or three demons at most - which they could take down easily. Alec almost always accompanied the trio on their missions, he had done so all of his demon-hunting life (although Clary hadn't been around then) but today he was busy with running the institute. In the time since the three had left, the oldest Lightwood sibling had done a briefing on weaponry, filled out the paperwork for the last week of missions and had a cup of coffee with his boyfriend (who made - or should I say magicked - the most excellent coffee). 

Of course, Alec missed the days of going on missions with his siblings, but they understood he had responsibilities. 

Actually, he had done a lot of work, and they still weren't back yet. Strange, but not ultimately that concerning. 

Without warning, the doors of the Institute had sprung open, revealing two Shadowhunters, covered in blood and sweat. Tears stained each of their bloodied cheeks and the boy was holding another in his arms.

Alec recognised them immediately. It was Clary and Jace, staggering into the ops room, cuts covering almost every visible surface of skin. And Jace. Jace was holding a body. Dead. The raven hair, the skin-tight red dress. 

Well, the dress could have been white for all he knew. It wasn't certain whether what he was seeing was material or blood, for the deep slashes that covered her stomach, chest and arms seeped dark-red blood. 

At first, Alec didn't say or do anything. He was standing there frozen, eyes wide and face white, staring straight at the sight of his dead sister being held by his Parabatai. A part of him wanted to scream, run over and yell her name and shake her, beg her to wake up, hold her in his arms. But that wasn't logical. Nor was it useful in any way. Isabelle was not going to wake up. Not then, not ever. 

Every noise in the room was blocked out, replaced by a faint ringing noise. Alec couldn't focus on anything, it was blurred into chaos. 

Shadowhunters had run over to help Clary and Jace, but Alec hadn't even noticed. His feet, that had refused to move towards his sister, had collapsed underneath him, and his body had fallen to the floor. Sound and movement had returned to the room, as the eldest Lightwood sibling let out a sob, tears immediately falling from his hazel eyes. 

A pair of strong arms wrapped around his shaking form, holding him close. Magnus held Alec to his chest, shushing his cries. He didn't speak, simply letting his boyfriend cry. "She's gone." Alec mumbled in between sobs. "She's gone."

Magnus had held Alec until the cries slowed and stopped, running his fingers through his black-brown hair. It was silent in the ops room, most people had slowly left or hurried off to help Jace and Clary. Alec's sobs had come to a stop, but he clung tightly to his boyfriend's shirt. It became clear that he wasn't breathing, and that his body was shaking violently. Panic attack.

Pulling Alec's body away from him, Magnus cupped his cheeks, looking directly into his eyes. "Alec. Look at me. Breathe. Come on, I'm right here."  
"I-I... Mags I-I can't." Alec felt as though his lungs had given out, and he was slowly disappearing inside himself. His throat was jammed, not allowing air to flow through his body. "Yes, you can. I know you can. Come on, Alexander. Breathe. My darling, please. Breathe in, breathe out." Alec began to follow Magnus' actions, allowing air to flow into his lungs. He was now breathing, but the pain felt so intense he wanted to cry out, scream in agony. But he couldn't, he felt numb.

That had been a week ago. The funeral was three days after. 

Shadowhunters dealt with loss every day. It was part of their lives, their culture. They died, you mourned, you moved on. Emotions cloud judgement. To love is to destroy and to be loved is to be the one destroyed. 

Or at least that's what Jace had been taught. 

Then again, Jace was alive and Isabelle was dead. 

It was a typical Shadowhunter death. The detector had picked up a few demons, but it was wrong. Instead of the 3 or 4 they were expecting, it turned out to be an entire nest of them, practically mauling the Lightwood to death. Clary and Jace had escaped by the point of their seraph blades.

Alec lay on the bed he and Magnus shared, tears lightly caressing his pink tinted cheeks. He didn't cry. He was Alec Lightwood, a true Shadowhunter. But it hurt, god, it hurt. One week was never enough to get over the death of someone you love, but it was enough for a Shadowhunter to get back on with their job, even if they were still mourning off duty. And even though being Head of the Institute was a job that never slept, he himself certainly didn't. His nights were filled with unwanted thoughts and occasional tears. 

But still, it wasn't like Alec to let others see him cry, not ever. He'd been raised to believe that tears spell weakness. It was a pure accident, finding the polaroid of the two Lightwood siblings, but finding it had shattered that little bit of his facade he had left. 

The door of the bedroom swung open, closing quietly behind the one who had just entered. Alec knew exactly who it was, so proceeded to wipe his eyes to hide the hurt that made its lair within them. 

"Alexander?" The bed dipped from the pressure of Magnus lying beside him, gently stroking Alec's hair so he would turn his head a little. The tears had been wiped from his perfect face, but the warlock knew - he always knew. "Oh, darling." He breathed, meeting Alec's reddened eyes. In a moment, Magnus pressed his body up against Alec's back, wrapping his arms firmly around his chest, as if shielding the shadowhunter. 

"Will it ever stop hurting Mags?" Alec choked out, voice so quiet it was almost unheard.  
"You loved her Alexander. You raised her. It will get easier, but no, it won't cease to hurt. But that's how you know just how much she meant to you."


End file.
